The Fitter Master in the Courtyard: Surrounded by Dead Men

She knew that beneath this seemingly lively game lay a carefully laid trap by the merchants. It was fine to dabble in it, but if she really invested too much, she was afraid she would end up losing miserably.

Yang Ping is a sensible person; he should be able to persuade Xiao Bai.

"Xiaobai,"

Yang Ping spoke up at the right moment, her voice calm yet carrying an undeniable weight, "Listen to Gao Yue, the one-yuan section is fine."

He knew all too well that even seasoned veterans who had been in the antique business for many years could make mistakes, let alone a novice like Zhou Xiaobai who was just acting on a whim. It was purely a matter of luck; a little gambling was harmless and entertaining, but if one invested too much, it would lose its appeal and only result in losses.

"……All right."

Zhou Xiaobai glanced at Yang Ping, then at Gao Yue, who looked worried. His impulsiveness subsided slightly, and he finally nodded obediently.

She quickly regained her liveliness and pulled Gao Yue towards the crowded area where people were shoving coins for one yuan.

Yang Ping did not follow, but stood still, calmly watching the two figures from behind, like a guardian stone statue.

Just then, a shop assistant quietly approached, a professional, ingratiating smile on his face, and softly asked, "Sir, wouldn't you like to try your luck?"

An elderly man with white hair stepped forward and nodded to Yang Ping in greeting.

Yang Ping nodded in response.

Without needing to guess, he knew that the person in front of him was a secret guard loyal to him; according to the records he had read before, this old man was a grandmaster in the world of treasure appraisal, with sharp eyesight and superb skills, and no one in the entire Wanfeng Tower could surpass him.

A faint, almost imperceptible smile flickered across Yang Ping's lips—perfect timing! He could now share in the old man's lifelong knowledge of cultural relics and explore it freely in Wanfeng Tower.

***

Wanfenglou offers five thousand coins for tea!

Meanwhile, Zhou Xiaobai tossed out ten copper coins and, together with Gao Yue, selected ten antiques before hurriedly seeking someone to appraise them.

Yang Ping stood still, absorbing the vast sea of ​​antique memories that Jin Hetong—the over-sixty-year-old bodyguard—had in mind.

Jin Hetong has been immersed in this field for decades and is already a master in the industry. He is also a leading figure in Wanfenglou and is currently employed to stay here.

Yang Ping knew that the phenomenon of shared memories was something that outsiders could not see, so he did not move to another place, but stood calmly in the hall.

Jin Hetong stood by with his hands at his sides, looking calm and subtly cooperating.

To outsiders, the two were simply having a normal conversation, with nothing unusual about them.

Naturally, Jin Hetong's identity inevitably attracted some attention—after all, he was a highly respected master in the building—but most people only dared to watch from afar, fearing that disturbing him would only displease him.

In the blink of an eye, five minutes have passed.

Yang Ping had completely integrated that complex and profound memory, and from then on, he was transformed into a true expert who knew everything about the past and present.

Furthermore, due to his exceptional comprehension, this fusion allowed his talent in the field of antiques to reach new heights, even surpassing Jin Hetong and entering a more profound realm.

"Mr. Jin, thank you for your trouble."

Yang Ping bowed and expressed his sincere gratitude.

Since we have benefited from others, we must not neglect proper etiquette.

"Mr. Yang, you are too kind. I shall take my leave now."

Jin Hetong said no more, gave a slight bow, and slowly disappeared into the crowd with his cane.

Yang Ping's gaze fell on Zhou Xiaobai and Gao Yue.

Clutching a few old items, they turned and left from the appraisal table, heads bowed, their expressions revealing undisguised disappointment—it was clear they had gained nothing again.

"how?"

He took a few steps forward and asked.

"Still haven't encountered a real one."

Zhou Xiaobai sighed.

Gao Yue, standing beside her, looked pained.

Ten yuan was thrown away, and all I got in return was a pile of old junk, completely worthless.

"Yang Ping, how about... we try the ten-yuan one?"

Zhou Xiaobai suddenly leaned closer and lowered his voice, saying, "Last time, someone in our compound found one there and resold it for two hundred yuan, making quite a profit."

They said that even if a ten-yuan stall loses money, the losses won't be too great; the odds of winning are always higher.

Her desire to go to the ten-dollar area wasn't without reason.

"Let's go take another look."

Yang Ping chimed in, "This time I'll choose."

Now that we've learned those methods of identification, we have to put them to use, otherwise it would be a waste of time.

"OK!"

Zhou Xiaobai's eyes lit up.

Gao Yue quietly tugged at Yang Ping's sleeve, her eyes pleading, as if she was afraid he might impulsively choose something too expensive, and it would be difficult to clean up the mess if he lost money.

"rest assured."

Yang Ping smiled and patted the back of her hand.

The three walked to the area marked "Genuine Products".

Area.

Yang Ping stopped and slowly scanned the dazzling array of goods on the shelves.

With just a quick glance, he spotted several genuine items.

Things here can be profitable or not, but losses ultimately outweigh the gains.

In the 100-yuan price range, most items are only worth a few dozen yuan, and there's probably only one item that's worth over 200 yuan.

The other stalls were similar.

On the contrary, genuine products are very rare in the low-price section—especially in the one-yuan display, where out of hundreds of densely packed items, there are only a dozen or so genuine products, with the most valuable being only twenty yuan.

Yang Ping had a general idea of ​​what was going on.

"Yang Ping, don't hesitate, take whatever you like, it's on me today!"

Zhou Xiaobai's voice was clear and urgent.

Gao Yue, standing to the side, quietly clenched her fingers.

She had never experienced such a dramatic rise and fall. The previous losses had left her with lingering fears, and now she only hoped that Yang Ping could stop and not take any more risks.

"No rush."

Yang Ping simply raised her hand slightly, her gaze still slowly sweeping over the cheap goods.

Suddenly, his gaze fell on a porcelain plate in the ten-yuan section.

The plate had an elegant design, a thin and even body, and a lustrous glaze—it was an antique.

He reached out and picked it up, his fingertips brushing against the rim of the plate, and he knew what to expect.

This is a polychrome lotus-patterned plate from the Chenghua period, a typical official kiln piece, but for some reason, there is no mark on the bottom.

Presumably it was because it lacked that mark that it was carelessly tossed among this pile of cheap goods, its brilliance obscured.

"Xiaobai, this is fine."

Yang Ping turned his head and said.

"good!"

Zhou Xiaobai readily agreed and paid the bill without hesitation.

"Yang Ping!"

Gao Yue couldn't help but call his name softly, her brows furrowed with worry.

"Don't worry, trust me."

Yang Ping smiled slightly at her, his expression calm.

Gao Yue opened her mouth, but ultimately swallowed her words of advice.

"Gao Yue, don't be nervous, it's only ten yuan."

I still have over a hundred yuan here, so I'm not worried about losing it.

Zhou Xiaobai, on the other hand, didn't seem to care at all, and spoke in a lighthearted tone.

Yang Ping said no more, carrying the unmarked five-colored lotus-patterned plate, and headed straight for the appraisal area.

The master chef behind the table took the plate, examined it closely under the light for a moment, then lightly tapped the plate with his knuckles before looking up:

"Congratulations, comrade. The piece you found is a replica of the Chenghua polychrome lotus-patterned plate. It's in good condition and worth about one hundred yuan."

Would you like to exchange for cash now?

"Very good!"

Upon hearing this, Zhou Xiaobai almost jumped up, a bright smile spreading across her face—at least it wasn't all for nothing.

Gao Yue also breathed a sigh of relief.

She wasn't happy about making money; her heart, which had been hanging in suspense, finally settled down, and a slight smile curved at the corners of her eyes.

"Are you really sure it's a fake? Won't you take a closer look?"

Yang Ping pressed for an answer.

"No mistake, this is a replica of the Chenghua polychrome lotus pattern plate. Although it has no mark, the craftsmanship is excellent. The shop is willing to pay 100 yuan for it."

The appraiser answered fluently.

This item had already been inspected by several experienced craftsmen in the shop before being placed on the shelf for genuine items.

The prices were clearly written in the booklet, and he was just reading from it—he had already calculated exactly how much profit could be squeezed from every item in the shop, whether genuine or fake.

"It's genuine, definitely not a fake."

Yang Ping gently stroked the rim of the plate with his fingers. "Look at the pattern, the texture of the body, and the luster of the glaze. They all have the characteristics of the Chenghua period."

The lack of a signature may have another reason.

He paused, his tone calm yet resolute:

"In my opinion, it's worth at least two thousand."

If you accept it, I will keep it; if you don't, I will take it with me.

The appraiser's expression suddenly tightened.

After listening to Yang Ping's words and examining the lotus pattern and the traces of time in the glaze, it is indeed identical to the genuine article, except for the missing mark.

"Please wait a moment, I will ask a few more masters to come and take a look."

He carefully placed the plate back on the table, turned and strode away—if it truly was from the Chenghua era, Wanfenglou could not afford to miss it.

"Yang Ping, this plate... is it really worth two thousand?"

Zhou Xiaobai's voice trembled slightly with disbelief.

The secondhand items I picked up on a whim were worth several years' worth of food for an ordinary family.

Gao Yue, who was standing to the side, was also stunned. Two thousand yuan—this amount was so large that it made her dizzy.

"Of course it's true."

Yang Ping smiled slightly, "You'll know when they arrive."

At this moment, what he saw and felt was far beyond what Jin Hetong and his ilk could comprehend.

The plate lay quietly on the table, its soft light shimmering, as if silently telling the story of the kiln fire and craftsmanship of five hundred years ago.

An antique priced at two thousand yuan is enough to make Wanfenglou treat it with great care.

"Please look at this plate, everyone."

The appraiser who had spoken earlier asked, "Does the shape and pattern match the characteristics of the Chenghua Five-Colored Lotus Pattern Plate?"

Several appraisers took turns receiving the porcelain plate, examining it carefully, and passing it around for inspection.

Finally, the plate landed in Jin Hetong's hands.

He examined it for a moment, then gently put it down and waited for others to speak.

"The shape and glaze are similar, but the mark is missing."

"Indeed, I have never seen one without a name before."

"What are your thoughts, Mr. Jin?"

After the group finished their discussion, their gazes all turned to Jin Hetong—clearly, his opinion carried special weight in this room.

"Except for the missing inscription, the body, pigments, and painting techniques are all consistent with the characteristics of the Chenghua polychrome lotus pattern plate."

Jin Hetong said slowly, "Whether it was an oversight during the firing process or there was another reason, it is now difficult to ascertain."

The truth was clear as soon as the words were spoken.

The master craftsman who previously appraised this item has probably made a mistake this time.

"it is good."

The appraiser nodded and turned to Yang Ping, "Sir, would you mind moving upstairs to discuss this further? Our owner would like to see you."

"Can."

Yang Ping readily agreed.

He led Gao Yue and Zhou Xiaobai up to the second floor with others.

The appraiser approached the main seat, whispered a few words, and then bowed and withdrew.

A middle-aged man with a mustache stood up with a smile: "My name is Chen Wanfeng, the manager of Wanfeng Restaurant."

How should I address you, sir?

"Yang Ping".

Yang Ping met the other person's gaze and returned the smile.

"Mr. Yang's visit brings honor to our small shop."

Chen Wanfeng spoke in a warm tone, "I, Chen, would like to offer five thousand yuan as a tea gift. I humbly request that you be so kind as to accept this offer. If you happen to pass by again in the future, I hope you will come up to the second floor for tea—consider it as making friends."

Yang Ping is the largest individual shareholder behind Wanfenglou, so his decision at this moment is purely from a private standpoint—as for the public share, he has no right to inquire and can only pay for it out of his own pocket.

"I'm willing to pay, but I have to take that plate with me."

Chen Wanfeng nodded slightly.

He understood perfectly what the other party meant: the five thousand yuan was a request that he never set foot in Wanfenglou again.

If you really can't resist coming, just have a cup of tea; don't make any more business that will cause the building to lose money.

This tactic is a common "loss-cutting" strategy in the antique trade.

The method.

If someone with Yang Ping's discerning eye came to browse every day, the genuine goods would eventually be all picked clean, leaving only a room full of imitations and fakes, and the business would come to an end.

The store must occasionally display one or two genuine items to attract more customers hoping to find a bargain, thus keeping Wanfenglou's revenue flowing.